


this is my becoming

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Series: loves always breaking your heart [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, Meta Poetry, Murder Husbands, POV Will Graham, Poor Will Graham, Psychopaths In Love, This is My Design, hannigram poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-21 15:51:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6057310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I guess this is my becoming - the very grave that I'll toss myself into for you<br/>you'll watch as I dig - eyes tracking every movement like a predator stalking its prey<br/>look at me, don't lie to me<br/>we both know you'll turn my rib-cage into a vase - polished ivory, licked clean</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is my becoming

**Author's Note:**

> I'm addicted to this show already, it's my first time watching and I've saw a few spoilers but I'm still on S1.

1.

I love you in the way that the shore feels as a hurricane levels her; a violent storm on the brink of madness with hands like claws clutching at the seashells she wears as a necklace - your love feels like pain

like sinking knee deep in the mud and sawing my own arms off just to save the part of me that you love - won't they look beautiful on the mantle?

like holding my breath until my lips turn blue because it's your favorite color and I know you'll want to melt it down - turn me into a candle; I will keep you warm

like standing in the middle of the forest with the taste of blood on my tongue and a graveyard in my stomach but you know I wouldn't take it back

I love you like a light bulb moment burning bright - like the very first recorded supernovae when the sky was too far away and we were so small, so unsure of ourselves

I love you like a freshly picked bouquet of sharpened blades - like my exposed skin on display when you have the power to consume me in every possible way & some days I wish you would

I love you like the dying love their last breath

 

2.

I built us a future while you were sleeping - all silk dressing gown & unguarded expression filling in the crease of your forehead, the corners of your eyes, gentle but deadly hands resting on your pillow like a reminder - _remember who I am & who I'm not, love me anyways_

In this future that I built we were standing under an open sky when the rain came pouring down over our shoulders and soaking into your expensive suit - you wore antlers on your head like a macabre tiara and I wanted to rub the pad of my thumb over each pointed edge but you took my hand in yours instead and licked raindrops off fingertips like an ice cream cone in July _(oh you make me melt)_

Raindrops gave way to blood - liquid mixing with liquid and dulling the colors

_I never want to dull your colors_

"This is my method: boil the water in stainless steel stock-pot - medium heat; 3rd burner on the right, chop the carrots - uniform sized because presentation is important, dice the onion, slice off the roots of two leeks and soak in ice-water, apply teeth to nape of neck and bite hard enough to bruise - remove offending skin when bruise occurs, kiss every inch of flesh before removal - pan fry in white wine, drain, add to soup, toss in leeks, stir. This is my gift to you, this is my design."

I bet you thought I'd put up a fight, you didn't expect me to unbutton my shirt and point to the freckle on my chest - _start here,_ I said. Scrub with warm milk until every blemish is removed - lactic acid on pale skin, I planned this execution for you

I never thought of death as beautiful, sickening? Yes. Terrifying? Absolutely

Graceful? Only when it comes to you

I woke up in a cold sweat, freckle intact and feeling lonelier than I had in ages

 

3.

I guess this is my becoming - the very grave that I'll toss myself into for you

you'll watch as I dig - eyes tracking every movement like a predator stalking its prey

look at me, don't lie to me

we both know you'll turn my rib-cage into a vase; polished ivory, licked clean

and I'm not mad

you should know that by now

_I'm not mad_

 

4.

Pathological, neurological, chronological play by play of the seconds in between my life falling apart and back together again

held together with superglue and the way your bottom lip juts out when you're thinking

 _look_ \- this is the night that you saved a life and I stood frozen to the ground, legs heavy and eyes locked on you; that's when I knew

 _see this? -_ we had soup on that day and I admitted to myself that you were right from the start; you _are_ interesting

my heart would be less cracked and mangled if you weren't and some nights I still stare at the ceiling until shadows take the shape of you

 _another -_ blood drying on your lip, office in shambles, hair messy and untamed - we smiled at the crime scene & it felt right, we felt right

as for the painful memories I will simply show you my hands - notice how they tremble under your gaze, how they hold themselves like straight jackets, how they throw your actions back at you

they could've painted a masterpiece but they're tainted; stained red with plasma that bleach will not wash away

crimson splatters on white canvas - hang it up when we get where we're going

we'll turn it upside down and call it art

 

5.

She asked if I ache for you -

I wanted to tell her that you have this way of crawling inside and rearranging my bones while I sleep and last week they were wrapped in silk ties - decadent

or how your chest feels like a flood wall that keeps me from drowning

or that a hand on my shoulder feels like coming home when I didn't even know I'd left

or that I associate you with a toxic mixture of twisted love and jaded trust (but I'm willing to take that bullet)

or maybe she'd like an easy answer:

_only when I'm breathing_


End file.
